Two worlds
by Elric-Is-Love
Summary: Venturing to one world from another, Tam has never seen Hyrule, until now. Sheik X Oc!
1. Chapter 1

**The main character is a girl! She dresses as a boy, and I do not own Zelda and stuffs...**

**Now let me shower you in pictures of my cute little girl!**

Rain splattered the cobblestone drives of Verendez, a crowded metropolis almost completely consisting of town houses, apartments, stables and a large market at the very core. The people were soaked to the bone by this down pore that robbed the steamy, mid-spring afternoon of its sunlight. As I walked through the Village Square, I saw a great deal of things, hardly any of them good. The homeless and their children lined the walls, squatting in filth in their mismatching rags. The pleaded in vain for a few coins when ever the rare soldier, knight or anyone well-to-do passed; who paid no more attention then they would a fly that zipped past their ear. The children cried out because of the sharp pangs of hunger while a mother tried to soothe them, even though they were racked with pain as well. Prostitutes stood in the doorways to some of the inns, who also bade to the passers by. There were a few stands opened, they sold spoiled meat and stale bread at prices that were no less then murderous. It was like this in almost every city of Guinness. One must wonder how the country had managed to survive through seventeen years of depression.

I was dressed in a simple felt, black tunic and gray leggings, both torn, heavily patched and soaked all the way though. Over them, I wore a black, travel- worn coat that ended at the tops of my tattered boots and had a hood that kept my face shadowed. I also had a leather shoulder bag, in which I kept everything I owned, which wasn't much. For I was just as poor as anyone else and--because the abbey had stopped handing out meager portions of food --equally famished. But whereas most would just starve to death, I had other ways of surviving. I immediately saw my target: a sleepy merchant not paying enough attention to his potato bread. The man scanned the crowd for potential customers. This as the sort of thing I thrived on.

As I walked by, I slid one of the loaves up my sleeve in one liquid, flawless movement. I continued to walk on down the street but the clerk must have done a quick inventory check…

"Guards! A thief!" He yelled. Immediately, the royal guards stopped what they were doing and began to close in on me. But I was all too familiar with the thievery trade, I knew how to deal with this situation: _Run!_ I dodged between two slow-looking guards and ran flat-out down the drive, darting in and out of the crowds, trying to lose them. No such luck, they were like a team of disciplined hunting dogs. Some of the beggars cheered as I flew past.

But from out of nowhere, another guard stepped right in my path and grabbed me roughly by the arm.

"And where do you think you're going?" he sneered. But I wasn't exactly helpless ether. I drew the knife from my belt and stabbed him in the thigh, severing an artery. He screamed and recoiled, releasing me from his grasp. I recovered my speed and was out of the city and into the fields of the serfs. But still they pursued! Not for long. I headed into the woods and hid behind a tree. I heard the guards halt at once.

"Woah, we're not actually going to go in to the Black Forest, are we?" Asked one, sounding concerned.

"No, no…There would be no point in that, it's getting late. Besides, he won't be coming out alive anyway." Remarked another, "Let's go to the tavern and kick back a few."

"All right."

"Sounds good."

"Whatever."

I listened to them slosh up back to the town until their footsteps died away. I collapsed against the tree, breathing hard. _All of this over bread!_ If I had been caught, I would have been hung or had wild dogs sent up against me in public at a fair for entertainment, not something to be looked forward to.

I looked around me. Unlike my fellow countrymen, I had no fear of the Black Forest; I actually found it almost enchanting. I liked the way that the silvery mist drifted around the gnarled, dark trees. The whole place seemed mysterious and forbidding. At least the rain was filtered through the leaves and blocked most of the rain. There were myths of demons and dragons living deep within the forest, but myths were all that they were. There were packs of wolfos, but they had moved on years before when livestock around the area became scarce. As far as I knew, there was nothing to even remotely fear in the Black Forest.

Taking the bread from my sleeve, I found that now it was slightly damp. I didn't care; I was hungry enough to eat the leather off my boots. I ripped off a hunk with my teeth and chewed it noisily. It tasted sweet and warm, not stale and hard which was what I was accustomed to. I would have eaten it all but stopped half way. I was never sure when my next meal was going to be so sometimes I hoarded food. Regretfully, I stowed away what remained in my bag.

Suddenly, there was a loud clank of metal behind me, I nearly wet myself. Turning around, I found myself face-to-face with a large--no, _huge_ iron monster. I took a few steps back in surprise and feared for my life. But that all changed when I realized what it was. It was not a monster at all, but a horse clad in heavy armor of polished steel, no rider. It was a black stallion, the armor suggested that he belonged to a knight or someone of similar status. The horse simply looked at me, as if to ask what the problem was. Its eyes were strange, a sort of cobalt blue color, they seemed to see right into my soul. I stood there for a minute, wondering what to do. I would have probably been rewarded if I had returned him to his master.

I cautiously came back to the horse's saddle; there was a sword strapped to the side. I untied the shoulder strap and held the sword in its scabbard. I marveled at the lightness of the broad sword. Without even thinking about it, I drew the sword out, dropping the scabbard to the grass. It was a beautiful thing, it seemed to be unused, no rust or stains.

There was an odd round disk of what seemed to be oynx with a blueish flaw in it where the hilt meet the blade. The swirls of blue seemed to form a symbol that I had never seen before, it apeared to be some sort of rune.

I admired it for a few seconds then took it by the handle and made a clumsy swipe through the air. There was no way I was going to give this thing back or even sell it, it gave me a feeling of power when I wheedled it. Somehow, I felt more confident when the steel rested in the palm of my hand. I really didn't have a use for a sword; I didn't know how to use it and had no desire to do so before. _I guess I will now…_

I replaced the fine piece of steel in its scabbard and then returned my attention back to the horse. I fiddled with a few straps, messed around with a few buckles and with a bit of effort, soon the crupper (hindpiece) slipped off with another clank. Next was the flankplate that was under the saddle then the breastplate, the neckpiece and the headpiece. I realized soon that the horse was as beautiful as the horse. His flanks were glossy and the legs were slender and clean. The horse had a distinctive and refined head. This stallion was not the typical war-horse but a finely made animal built for speed and endurance rather then to be rode into battle. I was no expert, but I knew this breed was not from around the area. I stepped to the head and held out my hand. The five-year-old lowered his head and stretched his nose forward in response. The large, intelligent blue eyes seemed to signal acceptance as I touched his face. More at ease, I stroked the velvet-like skin of his nose.

"You're more of a baby then a monster, aren't you?" I said, chuckling to myself. The stallion nicked. I reached back down to my shoulder bag and fished out the potato bread. I held it out for him, which he ate greedily. I looked him over a bit more carefully; there were small cuts on his shoulders, belly, neck, hindquarters and legs. Whip marks, someone had been abusing him, some of the cuts were still fresh and looked as if they had dried recently. "And I thought I had it rough," I muttered.

I was faced with a tough decision. I certainly couldn't return him to his master, who would surely beat him again. But I couldn't keep him for myself. Sure, I knew how to ride bareback and take care of a horse (I had worked in a stable for a year before the owner decided to fire me), but keeping him meant money, something I didn't have. He dropped to the ground and rolled on his back, happy to be free of his heavy armor, saddle and bridal. I wondered how long he had been wandering around in the forest. I decided to leave him and hope he'd find his way to someone that knew how to properly handle a horse, and had the money to keep him. I strapped the scabbard to my belt and started to walk away, beginning my search for an ideal place to spend the night. The stallion got up and started to follow me, like an overgrown dog. I turned around.

"Go on! Go away. Find someone else, someone who can take care of you!" I said loudly, my voice projecting off the trees. The horse looked at me as if to say he would do no such thing. I threw up my hands. "All right, fine. You can stay with me for now but in the morning I'm finding you an owner."

I walked over to a tree and sat down against it. I wrapped my arms around myself and drew my knees up to my chest. _Damn it's cold!_ I shivered as the hair on my arms rose up. But the horse found a solution. He lay down beside me, offering me his flank. Reluctantly, I leaned against it. He was warm soft and had a nice aroma to him. I soon found myself curled up with his head resting on my back and drifting off to sleep as the sun's light faded completely.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Heh, the best way to explain why I'm writing this is to say--I am utterly bored. Therefore, I wrote this fiction for my own personal entertainment--which is the only reason why a fic should be written in the first place. I didn't write it to serve any meaning or tell any story mainly…Just a weird little thing..._**

_**R&R if ya don't mind. Hell, flame me to your heart's content, so long as ya got a good reason to back it up (I'll be tempted to give your story a good look over too). At least I'll know that someone actually read the damn thing…/**_

_**--**_

It was that dream again. The one I had every night; it was always the same, never changing in all these years. I could see no faces. I could hear him speak but it was…as if it was another language, the words held no meaning. But sometimes I understood, and I wished that I couldn't understand them at all…

A sharp pain on the side of my neck, a knife carved into the soft skin.

_"No! Stop it! You're hurting me!" _I heard myself yell, but something held me back; I couldn't move my arms to fight it off.

A dark voice chuckled mirthlessly and then whispered softly into my ear.

_"Just a little while longer, then--"_

A sharp bite to the rear awoke me. The nightmare faded away for the moment. I shot up and cursed at the horse but then stopped immediately. The sound of snapping twigs, though they tried to keep quiet. There were others in the forest; they stomped though the underbrush a mere fifty yards away. There were only four, illuminated by a single torch, barely visible though the silvery mist. I could tell these were not men at all, for they were all around six and seven feet tall.

_Moblins, there are moblins in the forest…_

The stallion had woken me to show me the monstrous things. For those of you who have never seen a moblin, I will describe them to you. Moblins are truly horrible looking creatures. They vary from 6'10 to 8'5 in height; all are inhumanly strong and rippling with muscles. They have relatively small heads along with flat noses; two tusk-like teeth that protrude from the lower jaw like a bulldog, heavy brows and waxy, green skin. Moblins used battle-axes, swords and maces on the battlefield and were deadly; no knight stood a chance against them one-on-one. From what I could tell, moblins were merciless killers. They had begun to appear seemingly out of nowhere a few years before and had been plundering towns and burning farms ever since. My heart burned with sudden hatred. But they weren't usually found so far south…I wondered what they were up to. For some reason, my curiosity always got the best of me.

I got up as quietly as possible, as did the horse. We started to follow them, keeping our distance to about thirty feet behind them. The tallest one led the way and carried a torch, the others followed behind him. They were talking among themselves in their deep, rumbling voices.

"I just don't understand…He _is_ only human. Why can't we just get rid of him? It wouldn't be too hard." said one.

"Yeah, we could…uh, toss him back into the water." Suggested a second uncertainly; a third nodded his head vigorously.

"Or run him through with our swords!" he said enthusiastically, the forth sighed in agitation.

"You are all fools if you really believe in that nonsense." He stated plainly, he sounded exhausted.

"Well if you're so damn smart, Fenter, then what do you think?" said the third in a sarcastic tone.

The forth whirled around to confront him, making the others stop dead in their tracks. His face was deeply scarred from battle, was the tallest I had ever seen and had wild black hair that was misty silver at the temples--he was obviously much older then the others. He glared coldly at the moblin; he seemed to shrink under his murderous gaze.

"I think rookies should keep their mouths shut and not speak in such a vulgar manner to their elders! I taught you all better then that." He growled.

"But, sir…" spoke the second one quietly."Jarvan and Weveren do have a point. So he has magic? Surly he can't be that powerful for any one of us to kill." This moblin had the most peculiar eyes I had ever seen. Instead of the usual black or even the rare red, his were a steel gray and seemed almost holographic when the light from the torch hit them. It also made him seem…I don't know, wiser than his brethren, save the old one.

"Testen, of what age are you?"

"One hundred and twenty five, sir."

I was not surprised to hear this. I heard that moblins had a life span of over a thousand years.

"And what do you know of magic?"

The moblin looked down and drew his boot in the dirt. I realized that this must be an older moblin training others that were considered teenagers by the rest of their people; if I was their age equivalent I would only be slightly younger.

"Just as I thought." He grumbled, turning around and walking through the brush. His apprentices followed.

"But there _must_ be _something _we can do to stop him!" he blurted out one they had started moving again. "We can't just let him take over this land. I love this place, so full of light--have you ever seen so many different plants and animals? I don't want it to be reduced to dust like our world."

The old moblin sighed heavily. "Yes, I love this land as dearly as you do. But, there is nothing we can do at the moment; he is far too powerful to be annihilated without the use of magic. All we can do now is hope that his mad quest for power brings him to his own demise. We shall see if he actually gets through the passage, there is a chance he won't, but if he does, I shall see when it is best to make our escape to Hyrule."

_Hyrule?_ I had heard very little about Hyrule. All I knew was that it was a small yet prosperous country far to the east. I was greatly puzzled over this conversation. Who was this person they were talking about? Why did they want to kill this one in particular? _Did_ he have magic? But most of all, I wondered where they were going…

"But…What of the words from the Oracle?" asked Testen in a rather hushed tone, I had to strain to hear him.

"You spoke to the Oracle?"

"Yes-"

"No," interrupted the forth moblin who I could only assume was Weveren, "the Oracle _sent_ for him. He wouldn't talk to anyone else. Tell 'em Testen."

"He says that a child with great power will be born. He can't see the outcome though, but he knows that the fate of the world rests upon its shoulders." This seemed to make him uneasy; he traveled in silence the rest of the way.

"Heavy stuff, man." Muttered Jarvan, shaking his head. "The question is if he'll turn to good or evil."

I could hear other moblins. Some were speaking in English and some were speaking in _Onatin_, the moblin language but I couldn't make out what they were saying. The voices came from ahead of us. I could see the shafts of torch light through the trees and could hear the grunts of _Washita,_ the heavy breed of war-horses that the moblins used to ride into battle. They seemed to be at Black Pond…

Fenter, Jarvan, Testen Weveren headed towards the light as I held back, unsure of what to do. I was terrified by then. I should have been smart and turned back to report that I had seen moblins, four was enough of a concern for them to send in troops. But my curiosity was getting the best of me, as always. Besides, no one would listen if I had told them, no one would believe a beggar.

_Aww, hell, why not take a look? _I asked myself, hand resting on the hilt of 'my' new sword.

I bravely started forward towards the light. But then I realized the horse was still behind me. I turned around; he was giving me a what-do-you-think-you're-doing look with his large, expressive eyes.

"It's all right; I just want to see what's going on. You stay here; we'd be seen if you followed me." I whispered and held his nose. Then it struck me that I was talking to a horse. If anyone had heard that, they would have thought I was loosing my mind. Talking to animals…honestly…

But to my surprise, when I started forward, he stayed still. I marveled at this for a second, no horse I had ever heard of responded to human words. Then I remembered what I had followed the moblins for and continued on towards the light. I crouched down low so as not to be seen as I pressed on.

I gasped at what I saw. Stretched out below me was Black Pond, the land sloped down to it to create a sort of bowl-shaped theater. From the rocky outcropping that I stood on, I could see more than five thousand moblins, the muster of the entire clan. Most were tightly clustered together, shoulder to shoulder around the water. A few, like the four moblins that I had followed, stood farther away. Unlike the moblins at the pond, who seemed happy and excited the other moblins seemed sullen and exchanged dark looks among themselves. I noticed that Testen was sharpening a massive five-foot-long sword with a rock, testing it on the hair of his arm. Fenter paced restlessly, glancing over at the pond on occasion.

_Well, now what? _I thought to myself. I was scared out of my mind. If an moblin discovered me, I would die by the Red Eagle--which meant that a cut was made right below your rib cage and your internal organs were pulled out while you were still alive, one by one--heh, heh, not a pleasant thing to watch or experience.

I noticed that my breath emerged from my nose as freezing vapor. It made me terribly uneasy. _Was it this cold before? No, something is very,_ very_ wrong…_

All of a sudden, the crowd hushed, all eyes turned to the pond.

"Ganondorf! He comes!" announced one to the mass of moblins.

I watched with grave interest. I should have turned around I guess but I was nailed to the ground, transfixed as the water began to boil at the center. There were few at first, then it seemed that the pond frothed black bubbles. The source of them seemed to move under the water, moving towards the bank in my direction. The moblins at the water's edge took a few steps back as the trail of bubbles drifted ever closer.

A head emerged from the water followed by shoulders and the rest as a man trudged up the bank to the moblins. He was a huge man in strange black and brown armor. His skin was dark and looked tough as leather on his face. I couldn't tell what ethnicity he was. He looked Arabic but his stiff red hair that was beginning to recede from his sloped forehead proved otherwise. It was also hard to guess his age. He could have been anywhere from late thirties to mid fifties for all I knew. He was also a massively built man, almost like an moblin but lacking their height, I knew he couldn't be quite as strong.

In one swift movement, every moblin went down on one knee and bowed their heads. He closed his eyes, tilted his head back and inhaled deeply, wide nostrils flaring. He then looked back to the moblins at his feet and spoke in a rough voice with a slight metallic note in it.

"Ahh…It is good to be back after these last few years. One does miss this place after being away in the realm for so long. But I am rather disappointed in you all." His voice cut though the air like a knife and demanded respect from the monsters around him. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath. His eyes rested upon one moblin in particular who was directly in front of him. "Durran? Will you please stand up?"

The moblin stood up. I recognized him as the warlord of the clan, a general of sorts and was a foot taller than the man that was probably around 6'7". But instead of appearing savage and brave as he did leading the hoards into battle, Durran was shaking violently. _He's scared? Of what? Who is this guy?_

"Y-Yes, my king?"

"Durran, why have you not managed to obtain a member of the royal family?"

"Well, sir, I think it's because--"

"I did not ask for your opinion, moblin. What of the siege equipment that was sent to you? Why have you not managed to storm the castle with it?"

"They found out about the attack somehow. The royal family fled." The man they called Ganondorf scowled and Durran quickly added: "I'm sorry I failed you."

"You pitiful worm. You know the policy that I have for failures…"

The eyes of every moblin widened in horror.

"_NO! Please, have mercy!"_ He screamed, falling to his knees. The man smiled and held out his hand, palm facing the whimpering moblin. The moblin's soldiers scuttled away from him, knowing what would happen next. A horrific thing happened. The fingertips of the man's hand glowed purple, such a phenomena I had never seen before. A ball of purple flame flew from his hand and hit the moblin in the face. Before my very eyes, the flesh began to slide off the bone like an overcooked chicken. Blood seeped from all visible openings in his body as his unearthly howls filled our ears. The screams were cut short when the rib cage fell out of the front of his chest. What was left of Durran slumped into his own puddle of blood and internal organs.

"Oh dear God!" I yelled without even thinking. All of a sudden, more than five thousand sets of eyes fell upon me including the yellow eyes of Durran's executioner. The man seemed fairly amused. His eyes seemed to burn with a light of their own as they met mine, but I couldn't be sure because of my hood. _Oh shit, I am so screwed._ I backed up a few steps at his cold, penetrating gaze. _RUN!_

I bolted into the forest, running as fast as my stiff, cold legs could carry me. I ran blindly through the forest, branches slapping at my face and thorns shredding my clothes even further. I had seen magicians before when they performed in the market for spare change but that was all just diversion and slight of hand, they didn't make people melt like candle wax. This was _real. _The only other people that I had heard of to be able to use magic were the members of the royal family, and even then it was said that their power was not all that strong--resulting in the current state of our land. This man they called Ganondorf was powerful. I was convinced that the he was pure evil, no doubt in my mind--if he was a man at all.

Suddenly, I heard the sound of light hoof beats at my side. I reached out a hand and touched the flank of the black stallion that trotted alongside me. I instinctively grabbed a hunk of his mane and swung up onto the horse's back. Before I was even properly seated, he hurtled forward. I flattened myself out, burying my face in the mane as we broke through the tree line and to the vast grasslands that were bathed in the glow of the full moon. He put on a tremendous burst of speed to a flat-out gallop along a dirt road. We left the forest far behind and the stallion slowed to a canter. But we were far from being out of danger as I soon learned.

CRACK!

The air around me was filled with electricity and I felt something hard hit me in the back. It was as if the blood in my veins was replaced with white-hot flames. I felt my whole body become rigid. My grip was released and I fell to the ground. I heard a sickening crunch as my leg broke under me. The horse realized that I had fallen and came back to where I lay. My eyes wouldn't focus right but I could feel the puffs of air as he checked me over by smell to see if I was all right--no, I was in great pain already, and I just knew there was more to come. I gritted my teeth from a mix of frustration, rage and pain. From farther away, I could hear the clank of armor as someone walked towards me. As the footsteps came closer, the horse came to the front of me, sheltering me from what was coming. I heard a voice.

"Away from him, horse." The voice commanded, cool as ice. The horse snorted in anger. "Very well."

There was a flash of light. The horse screamed and jerked out of the way. The steps halted inches away from me. My eyes came to focus on the evil man peering at me down the length of his obscenely long nose. _How the hell did he get here so fast?_

"A scout of Guinness, how amusing. Tell me, in what way would you prefer to perish this fine evening?" he chuckled like it was just a joke. I considered myself a true coward but seeing as to I couldn't run from this--but I wouldn't if given the chance. Better to die on my feet then at his. I wiggled the toes of my right leg; I had power to move again. With my good leg, I kicked out at the sand on the ground, spraying it in the man's eyes. With a growl he tried to rub out the sand, I staggered to my feet and drew out my newly acquired sword. When his eyes were free of the sand, he saw me twenty feet away from him, two-handed grip on the sword, shoulders hunched, all of my weight resting on one foot while only the toe of my other boot was on the ground. He glared at me darkly yet there was the hint of a bemused smile in those cold eyes. "Have you no honor?"

"You dealt the first blow, I'm only as ruthless as my enemy." I hissed. "Care to swap body fluids you murdering son of a bitch?"

He grinned broadly, was that the answer he had expected?

"A challenge! I gladly accept. I suppose I need some practice, I was aiming for your head. By the time I am through, you will be begging to die." He said, lazily outstretching his arm, the fingers glowing slightly once more but this time green.

It was a pitifully short-lived battle. A neon green beam lanced from his hand towards me. I tried to jump out of the way but for that I would need two good legs for that. Instead I just managed to stumble to the side; I inhaled sharply as I felt the bones in my leg grind against each other. He caught me off guard and shot at me again, hitting me directly in the chest. Another snap. The force sent me flying into the air and landing some eight feet away on my back, the sword fell from my hand a little ways off. The pain was incredible; wave over wave of it washed over me. The hood had fallen from my face. He gasped his eyes wide and surprised. When he spoke, it sounded oddly confused.

"A--A woman?"


	3. Chapter 3

"A woman…" he repeated to himself, softer this time.

I tried to get up again but just slumped back down to the ground, face contorted in pain. I touched my chest lightly and found it sticky with a thick liquid. Blood had seeped through the tunic, the white shirt and the corset I used to conceal my identity as female. Men in my time were, well, less then gentleman. You didn't get hassled as much if they thought you were one of them. I tried to get up again but Ganondorf rushed forward, knelt down at my side and pushed me back down by my shoulder as gently as he could.

"No, no, no, darling. It would be best if you didn't get up. You're hurt." He said softly, using his most kindest and sincere voice. It was a disturbing change from what I had witnessed only seconds ago.

"I wonder whose--" I tried to yell but my voice was stifled by a cough. More blood, I spit it off to the side but more took its place. The snap that I had heard was a rib; it had punctured a lung. _I'm dying!_ My mind screamed for oxygen, as did my aching muscles. The pain seemed very far away at that point. My vision began to cloud up from lack of blood. I felt the man's large hands take off my coat then sweep the long dirty hair from my forehead and then rest it there.

"You'll be fine, I can help you." His voice was extremely calm considering the situation

There was no doubt in my mind that if he wished, he could crush my skull as easily as he would an eggshell with that hand of his. But instead of causing any further damage, I felt a warm, comforting sensation starting from my head and then spreading all the way down to my toes. I closed my eyes as I felt strange things happening in my body like my bones knitting themselves back together and my lung repairing the tissue. I spat once more and then there was nothing. I looked over to the man; his copper eyes seemed to shine with a light of their own as they gazed into my own.

"Are you all right?"

I was speechless for a few moments, but then I just exploded.

"Get the hell away from me!"

Startled, he stepped back a little while I scrambled to my feet. I glared at him as he stared at me curiously, quickly regaining his composure.

"You don't express proper gratitude, considering the fact that I just saved your life."

"You mean nearly killed me!" I spat.

He looked almost thoughtful, "I suppose that is true. My apologies, if that helps at all." Like I said, truly disturbing. He continued, seeing as that I wasn't going to be won over with a simple apology. "Now, why would the country of Guinness risk one of its finest daughters, and especially one so attractive, to do men's work?" I glared at him darkly, but with a little confusion. What was he talking about? I was not by my standards very pretty at all and the way he said "finest daughters" gave me the impression that seeing the reaction, he continued once more. "Tell me, what is your name?"

I wasn't prepared for such questions.

_Spill your guts or he might do it for you, _I told myself. He did after all have the powers.

"Uh, Julia." I picked randomly. He raised his thick eyebrows in response.

"And a last name?"

"Salem. Julia Salem. Why?" I lied quickly. Ganondorf narrowed his eyes in suspicion but then smirked.

So what? My name was Tamara De'lune, would a murderer care? I think not!

"I know who you are, but do you know?" he answered. "When I attacked you, why didn't you just fire back?"

I took a few steps back towards the horse; there was something odd about how he said those words_. There's no way he could know me, I've never met this guy in my life._

"So you don't know…Excellent. That should make things far easier for me." Suddenly, he lunged forward trying to take hold of my arms. But I wasn't crippled anymore. I jumped out of the way and snatched my sword from the ground where it had fallen. He paused, seemed amused as I stood before him, imitating the battle stance that I had seen knights use.

"Do you really think you can face me and live to tell the tail? Put it down, 'Julia,' or I will introduce you to a world of pain."

"Bring it on." I hissed and brandished the sword and narrowed my eyes into slits. He smiled but not in the kind way he did before. It was cruel and sadistic; the sight of it made my hair prickle against my sleeves.

Some would later call challenging the mighty wizard a heroic and courageous deed. Others, myself included, would think it reckless and stupid. But all would agree it to be smarter than cooperating with him. I swear to the gods it was the damn sword. It made me feel recklessly brave. Ganondorf, taking on a leisurely stance, drew a scimitar out of his boot with a metallic _SHING _and pointed it at me.

"Are you going to make the first move or shall I?" He snickered, not taking the situation very seriously. He knew I was unskilled. I didn't move a muscle. "All right then."

With a loud war cry that echoed across the grassland, he leapt at me with his Arabic style sword arched high above his head. Instincts kicked in. I went forward at the same time, blocking the heavy blow that would have killed me.Steel clashed against steel, sending a shower of sparks to the ground. The power behind his sword nearly knocked me off my feet but I managed to hold my ground. With a grunt, he kicked out at me but I avoided it and flipped backwards. The moves came so naturally one would think I had been trained for years._ Wow, I'm better then I thought! _He came at me again and once more he was blocked. I felt sweat dripping down my back but my face was cold. He slashed out at me, I missed it narrowly by jumping back, I felt the tip of his sword graze my tunic and make a small tear it the mid-section. I knew he wasn't putting any effort into those heavy blows; he was just playing with me as a cat would a mouse.

There was a horrifying scream; it pierced though the air like a siren. The kind of sound that made your hair stand on end and blood run cold. There was a clatter of hooves as a black shadow charged past me straight for Ganondorf. He veered suddenly and missed the warrior by less then inches. While he was distracted I lashed out at him and came very close to my target, I nicked his ear and a bead of dark blood trickled down the side of his face, his eyes widened as he blocked another attack. We moved in a slow circle and kept our distance from each other, his steps heavy, mine nervous and quick, both playing our roles in the deadly dance of steel. The black horse passed restlessly around us, tossing his head and flaring his nostrils, not taking the risk of attempting the same thing again.

But then the rules changed. The man smiled even broader, his brilliant white teeth appearing in his dark face. My vision seemed to ripple like a wave of heat had passed over my eyes. I glanced around me in horror. He was gone!

_Where the hell did he-_-there was a whistle of steel and then a searing pain shot through my shoulder, almost making me almost drop the sword. I gasped sharply; it was a sword wound. Not very deep but painful none the less. I slashed at the air around me recklessly, desperate to strike my invisible foe. His hoarse chuckle filled the air around me, seeming to come from all directions.

"What's wrong, _Julia_? Afraid of what you can't see?" he taunted. I gritted my teeth together.

"Afraid to face me?" I growled, heart pounding in my ears. The chuckle turned into mirthless laughter.

Suddenly, I was slammed into the ground on my back. He was on top of me, pinning me down. I could scarcely draw breath with the weight. He leaned so close; I could feel his hot, disgusting breath on my face.

"I win." He said, still grinning.

"Damn you and the whore that brought you screaming into this world!" I yelled, frantically twisting, trying to rid myself of him but to no avail.

"Come back to the forest with me." He said softly.

"NEVER!" I screamed. My fingers hooking into claws.

"That wasn't a question, it was an order--"

A large figure hurtled out of the darkness, slamming into Ganondorf from the side and knocking him off of me. I scrambled to my feet. And there was the man, struggling against the massive, battle-hardened moblin. His eyes had turned from a yellow to a fiery red as he glared at Fenter who had neatly pinned him to the ground on his belly, hands behind his back. But Ganondorf was too strong, even for a moblin, Fenter had difficulty holding him down. Ganondorf's hands, balled into fists, glowed with an eerie purple light.

"Run, human! Go and never look back! Find safety in Hyrule!" Fenter yelled to me.

"But--"

"Run damn you, human!" he sneered, "I can't hold him down much longer!" I picked up my sword and the black horse was at my side in an instant. I swung up onto his back and dug my heels into his side. He took off, swift as the wind. As we went by, I could feel Ganondorf's eyes following me.

Never had I felt a horse run so fast in my life, his tremendous speed made it hard to breathe and the air whipping against my face stung my eyes, making them tear up. Blood was singing in my ears. I leaned forward as much as possible, became lost in the inky black mane. Thunder rolled from his hooves and cut away at the turf as we topped a grassy knoll just as a bright, purple flash in the sky signaled Fenter's death. I bowed my head and urged on the horse, fearing Ganondorf would hunt us down again.

He never came.

Sometime later after we had covered a lot of ground, we stopped at a small stream. By the light of a Poe lantern, I cleaned the wound on my shoulder. It hurt like hell but wasn't too bad. It probably wouldn't even get infected.

_But what now?_

_Where do I go from here?_

My mind drifted back to the moblin. He had given his life to save me, from what I could only guess. Why? That was beyond me… And Hyrule…What was in Hyrule? Why did he say to go there? But…perhaps it was safe; otherwise he just would have said to get out of the county. Did Hyrule have some sort of defense against the dark sorcerer? I sighed deeply and continued to swab the cut. After wrapping my arm in some cloth, I sat there for a few moments just thinking. The horse never left me, I knew he wouldn't. He just stared at me with those intelligent blue eyes.

"Well, I guess I'm going to Hyrule..." I said to the horse. Yes, by god I was talking to animals again! But this was no ordinary animal; something set him beyond the reach of all others. When I looked in those eyes, I saw wisdom that no human could ever achieve. "You up for it?" The stallion grunted put his face close to mine. "I'll take that as a yes."

I got up and then we rode off to meet my fate.


End file.
